


We’d Jump

by Machetonim



Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel), It Lives (Visual Novels)
Genre: Alternate universe - modern world, Female Main Character (It Lives Beneath), Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Male Main Character (It Lives In The Woods), Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, if you want?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machetonim/pseuds/Machetonim
Summary: I’m thinking of Mother’s wedding dress dripping in red.
Relationships: Devon & Harper Vance, Elliot Vance/Robbie Sutcliffe, Estela Montoya & Aleister Rourke
Kudos: 1





	We’d Jump

**Author's Note:**

> I’m falling without him. Why isn’t he with me?  
> (No, it's not some weird love confession.)

The fair-skinned man has slick brown hair and blue eyes. He looks remarkably shredded, though hard to tell with his brown suit - he could be in his fifties. He's smiling.

(Harper and I were supposed to go on a road trip together.)

I run in front of the man. I don't think (I never have), so I can't be surprised when I realize I might die for someone I don't know. I always pictured going down in flames. Now (in my desperation of an early death), I'm going to die in a dark alleyway at twenty. My body will be rotten, and I'd smell from a mile away.

(San Fransico would've been our end.)

At least the last faces I'll see are lovely. Strange that that's my only silver lining.

(We'd drive the car onto the sidewalk, open the doors and walk to the Golden Gate Bridge.)

The girl had dark brown eyes hiding behind loose strands of her ponytailed dark hair. The boy was light blond with suspiciously similar eyes to the man. Though the girl wore a dark hoodie, not seeming to care much for her appearance, the boy wore a (looks tailored) suit with his hair slicked back. They can't be older than Harper. I wonder if it's easier to kill when you're younger.

(We'd stand on the railings together, in broad daylight.)

The boy gives me a look. _We’re going to kill you, and I'll have to clean up whatever organs you decide to leave behind._ The girl seems sad when she looks at me. Almost as if she regrets knowing she has to kill me. I think for a moment (always for a moment) that I might make out of this alive, but then I remember the malicious glint in the girl's eyes as she twirled her knife around her victim's (he could be at fault) neck when I was watching from the fire escape stairs above.

(She'd be wearing Mother's wedding dress, still pearly white.)

They didn't seem to have any issues working together. Maybe I could appeal to them. They're either monsters in acquaintance or have a reason.

(I'd be wearing black; one of Robbie's button-ups and jeans.)

"Before you kill me," I say softly, "can I ask why?" Idiot! Please don't see right through me, please-

(Harper would push my hair back, and I'd run my hand through hers.)

"If we don't," I look at the boy (dumbly, I hope) as he says, "you might tell."

(She'd ask me if I was scared.)

"And if I already did?"

(I'd look down before shaking my head.)

The girl speaks up this time. "You lose whatever mercy we were going to give you." What mercy? Driving the knife through my head instead of blocking my airflow? Was I casually chatting (with killers) about the amount of pain I'll feel before my untimely demise?

(She'd look at me with Father's eyes, and I would give one of Mother's withering smiles.)

"What about him?" I tilt my head in the direction of the man bleeding out behind me (he won't make it alive).

(I'd take her hand.)

"He'll die." The boy says, cooly, yet again glancing at me like he hasn't met anyone more stupid. He’s not wrong.

(We'd stand there for a while, thinking back on what had driven us to this decision.)

"Painfully," the girl finishes.

(We'd jump.)

I take three steps forward and stretch my arms out wide. I can only hope that my beige sweater doesn't stain.

(Water would seep into the mechanism of Father's broken watch on my wrist.)

"Don't get any blood in my hair," I say. I just dyed it. "That would be a nightmare."

(We'd blink, exposing our eyes to the deep blue.)

The man doesn't move. (I regret grabbing ice cream for Elliot instead of heading home.)

(We wouldn't do anything because we didn't have enough air in our lungs.)

They don't waste time. The boy grabs my wrists and twists my body around, forcing me to my knees. The girl slices the man's neck open. Twice. Blood continues to gush out of his open wounds.

(We'd turn our heads to look at each other.)

I've seen dead people (multiple times), but I've never seen people die. His limbs twitched like a squished bug before he went still.

(She'd laugh.)

"What should we do with him?" The boy asks, as if I’m not here. “I don’t want to clean the mess of two bodies.” Bingo.

(I'd scream.)

I feel something sharp enter my stomach.

(Harper, Harper, Harper, Harper-)

I hear something. What do I hear?

"-von. Devon?" _Harps?_

I'm thinking of Mother's wedding dress dripping in red.

**Author's Note:**

> I might rewrite this. Or add stuff, because half of it doesn’t make sense.


End file.
